It All Falls Down
by Yesm777
Summary: Adam's caught in a bomb explosion and buried under the rubble. Above ground, the team scrambles to get him to safety. Hurt!Adam.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Hello, hello. Got another hurt Adam story here. It's got a bit of language and mentions of injuries, so fair warning about that. And I hope to post chapters at reasonable intervals so ya'll don't have to wait too long. Anyway, hope ya enjoy._

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**Chapter One**

"_Top, you've got to get out of there."_

Adam was running with everything he had.

To be fair, he hadn't known it would be a bomb. All they knew was that there was a threat, but intel hadn't been able to narrow down what it actually was. There had been speculation, but nothing solid. So, worried about what could be waiting inside the building, he'd ordered his team to evacuate any occupants, opting to search for the problem alone.

As it turned out, it was a bomb.

And by the time Adam found it, the timer had run down to almost nothing. There wasn't enough time to diffuse it. He tried at first, but looking at the timer, he knew there was no way. So he ran.

"Just get everyone out. Get out," he huffed. He was sprinting as fast as he could, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. There were only seconds, and he wasn't even at the stairwell.

Counting in his head, he knew time had run out. He shut his eyes, dreading the inevitable.

And the world became a tangled knot of fire and force.

His feet left the ground as the blast screamed through the building. One second, he was flying through the air; the next, he was pummeled by debris and falling. Falling with the rest of the building.

His skull cracked against something, and then it was just black.

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Little by little, he became more aware. His ears rang, his body ached . . . and with every agonizing breath, dust seemed to invade his lungs.

He coughed harshly, groaning when sharp pain lanced through his body. He could feel it all over. His head, his shoulder, his abdomen, his leg, his arm . . . It felt like nothing was left untouched.

_"Top?"_

He blinked harshly in the dark, hardly able to see his surroundings.

"Amir?" he rasped, coughing more of the dust out of his lungs.

_"Shit, Top, we thought we lost you." _He knew that one. McG. Yeah, it was McG. _"Command said they couldn't see anything through your bodycam."_

He offered a grunt of acknowledgement, still trying to absorb his surroundings through the unrelenting ache. He felt like he was lying on a lumpy pile of rubble, large rocks digging into his back. He shifted a little, then stopped at the sharp pain sparking all over his body. He gritted his teeth to keep from yelling, not sure if he wanted to alarm his team just yet.

_"You still in one piece?" _McG asked, trying to keep it lighthearted.

Adam reached his left hand over to his throbbing shoulder to probe for an injury. He paused. Something bumpy and thin protruded from his shoulder. His mind raced to identify it.

Then it clicked.

Rebar.

Taking a deep breath, he followed the rebar down until he hit something, clenching his jaw when his fingers met torn flesh.

"Yeah, mostly," he answered casually, doing his best to keep the discomfort out of his voice. Taking a deep breath, he moved his hand down to his abdomen, finding another piece of rebar through his side.

_"Mostly?"_

For a minute, Adam didn't answer. He carefully took stock of his body, quickly narrowing down the general pain to heightened spikes of agony. His shoulder, his side . . . his arm . . . his leg. Adam gingerly reached over to his other arm. More rebar, right through his forearm. He swallowed down his worry. Thinking of the ache in his leg, he suspected that three pieces of rebar wasn't enough.

"Nothing to worry about," he lied, still unsure if he wanted his team to know. They'd panic; they always did. They buried it under professional determination, but they still panicked. And they didn't need the extra stress right now, especially if other people needed their help.

He reached for his leg, fearfully clawing at the limb. Fortunately, he was lying in a sort of half-seated position, so the reach wasn't so far, but it wasn't painless. His torso ached as he stretched. His hand clamped around more rebar, the minor movement sending shocks of pain through his thigh. He breathed through it, shutting his eyes against the ache.

_"Good to hear. Look, rescue team's already here, so just sit tight and we'll get you out of there," _McG reported, a breath of relief in his voice. Adam almost felt guilty. But he didn't exactly lie. He was _mostly _intact. And for now, there was no reason to send them into a fit of concern.

But he didn't know how long the rebar was. It could be problematic if they try to move the rubble around him and somehow jostle the metal.

Adam stopped for a minute, breathing deeply as he took stock of the rest of his body. His chest hurt, though it was muffled by the pain from his deeper wounds. Possibly cracked ribs. And he had a headache. Probably got knocked out in the explosion. Wouldn't be a surprise.

His body felt like one big bruise. Painfully, he turned off his comm, giving himself a moment of private silence. He reached for his leg again, his ribs protesting angrily. He growled as he pushed further, fingers finally finding the offending wound. More torn flesh. Blood. Exposed nerves.

He cried out in pain, resting back on the pile of rubble. Sweat was already beading on his forehead, a stubborn stone digging into his kidney. It wasn't ideal, but it could've been worse. Still, moving was not an option.

He turned the comm back on.

_"—op?"_

Jaz this time. He squeezed his eyes shut, composing himself.

"I'm here," he muttered.

_"The extraction team wants to know if you can see anything," _she asked, her voice firm to hide her stress.

He opened his eyes, squinting into the darkness. "Not really. It's pretty dark here."

_"Okay. It's probably best that you don't move. Not sure if it's stable."_

"Got it," he answered breathlessly, looking to the unseeable ceiling. Hell, it felt like the pain was getting worse.

_"How're you holding up?"_

For a second, he wondered if he should tell her. Tell her that rebar had used him as a pin cushion. Maybe warn her that moving debris could shift the rebar, causing more injury. But then he thought better of it. Maybe he could tell Preach or Patricia. Privately. Not Jaz.

"Fine. I'm fine."

There was silence on the other end, as though she was suspicious.

_"Are you telling the truth?"_

"I'm fine, Jaz." Adam answered a little too quickly, but he was on edge. He was still trying to find a way to gently break it to his team.

_"If you're injured, we have to know."_

Not yet, he wanted to say. Just take the peace for a little longer. "Let it go, Jaz." He coughed away more dust, his chest aching as he wheezed.

_"That didn't sound good."_

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, resting his good arm over his chest. "It's just dusty down here." He coughed again, his ribs screaming in protest. He couldn't bite back the groan in time.

_"Top, tell us what's wrong."_

Shit, everything hurt. He could feel the rebar pressing on ripped nerves as he involuntarily shifted with each cough.

_"Dalton, what's going on?" _Patricia demanded. She'd been quiet up until now, probably letting the team handle the situation on their own. The jig was up.

"First of all, it's not as bad as it sounds."

_"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" _Jaz demanded, angry and worried.

_"Top, what's happening with you, man?" _McG seconded, a hint of terror in his voice.

He could risk keeping it to himself still. They'd worry, but maybe not as much as if he told them. But that seemed cruel.

McG sighed. _"What's the damage?"_

Adam took a deep breath, wincing at the ache in his ribs. "Minor head injury, bruised or cracked ribs, general bruising . . ." He paused, already dreading their reaction. "And four impaled objects."

He could almost hear the raw alarm on his comm. The anger. The concern. The helplessness. And he wished he could've kept it from them longer, if only for a little while.

"_What are the impaled objects?" _McG asked, all business.

"Rebar."

"_Where?"_

"Shoulder, arm, leg, and abdomen."

"_Where in the abdomen?"_

Adam sighed. "Upper right."

A loaded pause.

"_How's the pain?"_

He grimaced. "It is what it is."

"_Top. How. Is. The. Pain?"_

Adam shifted a little, regretting it immediately when the sharp aches spiked. He gritted his teeth. "Not great," he ground out.

"_Okay. Don't you dare move, you hear me?"_

"Wasn't planning on it." He coughed again, letting out a small grunt of pain. He was getting so tired, and it was hard to hold back when you were tired. The rebar burned, and the rocks at his back felt like they were digging in even deeper. His ribs throbbed heavily, reminding him just how much he'd been knocked around. And he was starting to feel a little out of it.

He pressed his fingers against his injured shoulder, looking to see just how far the wet patch of blood went. It wasn't looking good. If the other injuries were the same, he was losing a fair amount of blood.

"_Top?"_

Adam blinked away the fog, letting his hand linger on his shoulder. "Hm?"

After some hesitation, McG continued. _"The rescue crew's going to ramp it up a little. We're going to get you out of there as fast as we can, okay?"_

At first, Adam nodded. Then realizing McG couldn't see him, he answered, "Okay."

"_Dalton."_

The director still had her usual sharp tone, but there was a touch of worry. If he didn't know her so well, he wouldn't have heard it. "Yeah?"

"_Can you shine some light in front of you? We need to see what's going on."_

The bodycam. He'd forgotten about it.

For a moment, Adam wasn't sure how he could manage. The op was in the middle of the day, so they hadn't worn their headlamps or anything. Then he remembered the small flashlight he kept in one of his pockets in case he ever needed it. Problem was, it was in a pocket on his right thigh. Possibly the furthest away from his good arm.

"Uh, yeah. Give me a minute."

Taking a few deep breaths, he steeled himself for what was to come. He could've told her it was problematic. But Adam Dalton was never one to turn down a request from the deputy director.

With one last slow inhale, he reached his arm toward his right thigh, attempting to keep his torso as immobile as possible. Muscles stretched over aching ribs, pulling on them cruelly. He growled as he reached further, turning his one shoulder the slightest bit to try and open the pocket. The pain was almost unbearable. But he wouldn't give up now. Fingers clasped around the small metal cylinder, and he quickly pulled his arm back.

Huffing, he lay still, waiting for the fire in his ribs to die down. He blinked harshly, feeling sweat dripping down his face.

_"Dalton?"_

He forced his breaths to slow, trying to maintain control. "I'm here." Another few gulps of air. "Just give me a minute."

His eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. Adam gathered his focus, facing the task at hand.

The flashlight clicked on.

Obediently, he shined the light over him in front of the camera. His eyes throbbed against the bright white, but he did his best to blink away the discomfort.

It looked worse than he imagined.

Blood soaked his right side, probably starting to pool beneath him, and trails of crimson slid down each side of his injured arm. His leg . . . it didn't look any better. They couldn't see his shoulder, but it wouldn't be hard for them to imagine it with what they were already looking at.

_"Sergeant McGuire, I'm going to send the feed to you. Be ready."_ Noah sounded shaken. He was all heart, and the kid wasn't very good at hiding it.

As they waited on the exchange, Adam took a minute to take in his surroundings. The beam of light moved from one side to the other, revealing precariously stacked debris. The good news: he'd somehow ended up in a small pocket in the rubble. The bad news: the tops of the rebar weren't visible. So moving debris could mean moving the rebar. It hurt just to think about.

And he was already starting to feel pretty dizzy.

_"I've got the feed. Top, show me what's going on."_

McG's voice cut through his thoughts, and he quickly moved his flashlight back down.

The medic sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

_"Shit, Top. That's not great."_

Adam's lightheadedness seemed to magnify as he craned his head to get a better look at his injuries. Overwhelmed, he laid back, closing his eyes. He was feeling worse by the minute, and who knew how long it would take to get him out. Eventually, he put his arm down at his side, too tired to hold the flashlight up any longer.

_"Top? You still with me?"_

"'M h're," he mumbled, willing the dizziness to go away.

_"You can't go to sleep yet, buddy. You've got to stay awake."_

"'S fine. Jus' dizzy."

_"Don't pass out, Top," _Jaz threatened, a cold fire behind her words. _"Rescue's moving now. They've already cleared some of the debris and think they've pinpointed your location."_

"S'nds great."

Something shifted above him, and he slowly peeled his eyes open. The rubble was moving, and a beam of light split the darkness. Something harshly bumped the rebar in his leg, ripping a cry of pain out of him.

_"Top? You all right?"_

He huffed against the fresh agony, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"S-something moved one of the rebar," he bit out, his body trembling.

_"Shit."_

He could hear shouting, and more of the broken concrete moved above him.

Then all hell broke loose. Debris shifted dramatically, jolting a few of the rebar.

And suddenly, a hefty block of concrete came loose and fell directly on Adam's left foot.

He felt bones snap.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Wowza, thanks for the reviews, folks! I am regularly astonished by how many return to this fandom (I miss this show on a daily basis but also realize it's been some time). Welp, on to chapter twooo. Again, as a warning, there is some coarse language and talk of injury. You're all great; hope ya'll like this next chapter._

**Chapter Two**

_Recap_

_And suddenly, a hefty block of concrete came loose and fell directly on Adam's left foot._

_He felt bones snap._

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A scream tore out of Adam, ravaging his throat and pulling ruthlessly on his ribs. Black dotted his vision, unconsciousness hovering dangerously close.

_"Top? Top, what's happening?"_

He couldn't speak, he was too focused on trying to breathe through the recent break. To make things worse, he could smell fresh copper and feel a few of the blood stains growing larger.

Unsure of what to do first, he worked at taking slow, shaky breaths, which were occasionally punctuated by a grunt or shameless whimper. He was trying so hard to keep himself under control, but with the crushing weight of concrete on your foot and the cruel stab of rebar dotting your body, it was nigh impossible.

The loose rubble above him shifted, and he wondered if this was it. If he was destined to die in a hasty attempt to save him. He wouldn't hurt anymore. But he'd hate to leave his team behind.

And then light seemed to flood into the tiny pocket of air, the hole growing larger with each passing second.

"Top?"

When did McG get there? Adam blinked sluggishly, his body still quaking in the wake of all the pain and blood loss. How long had it even been? He couldn't be sure. It could've been minutes. Or hours.

McG jumped down, quickly dropping to Adam's side as he took stock of his team leader. His eyes fell over Adam's left foot. Or at least, where it should've been.

"Fuck," he muttered, looking back at Adam's face. "We're going to get you out, Top. You hear me? You're going to be fine."

Someone else dropped down behind him, and some kind of tool was passed down to the newcomer. Another man landed behind the first.

Adam felt McG's hand on his shoulder. "We're going to move this concrete and take care of your foot. And we're going to have to cut away some of the rebar. To be honest, it's gonna hurt like a bitch."

Trembling, Adam nodded, wincing heavily. One of the men approached, looking to McG.

The medic met Adam's eyes. "You ready?"

Adam took as deep a breath as he could manage. "Do it."

McG and one man lifted the boulder off his foot, and the pain ratcheted several degrees. Determined to toughen it out, Adam clenched his hands into fists and focused on his breathing, but it came out in quick, pained gasping.

And then came the bolt cutters to trim away the rebar.

With every cut, all Adam could do was grit his teeth against the movement. The rebar jerked slightly in each wound, agitating the raw, severed ends of his torn nerves. By the time they'd finished trimming the top portions of rebar, he was in and out of consciousness, fighting to stay awake.

Something patted his face, coaxing him out of his haze.

"Come on, Top. Can't nap yet, okay? Let me see those eyes. Come on, Top. Eyes. Let me see 'em."

Adam tried his hardest to stay awake. Between the throbbing and the angry pull of unconsciousness, he felt twisted and wrung out. By now, all he wanted was for it to end. If he had the strength, he would've laughed. To think that at the start of this, he thought he could essentially muscle through it.

He felt someone gently lifting him up as bolt cutters carefully cut the rebar beneath him. He was so out of it that he wasn't entirely sure if he was floating or in complete and utter agony.

His eyes slid closed for a moment, and when he opened them up again, he was on a transport board, being pulled up through the hole in the debris. He frowned. Did he pass out? Did he have a memory lapse?

The next time he blinked, he was above ground, and his team was running on either side of him as he was rushed to an ambulance. They all seemed to be talking at once, but he couldn't pick up a single voice or word.

He ached. Everywhere. Even his eyes hurt. And then he felt the pressure. Hands pushing down around each piece of rebar.

Oh.

That could explain why he was so tired. Might've been a little short on blood.

And that was the last thing he could remember.

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Jaz was running across the rubble before anyone could stop her. He was out. Adam was out of that shitty hole. And she'd be damned if she stayed on the sidelines now.

She arrived just in time to grab McG's hand and help pull him up, the two of them immediately descending on their wounded leader.

Her breath stopped in her lungs. Adam's skin was leached of color, except for the stark, purpling bruises dotting much of his body. A nasty cut tore the skin near his hairline, a dry drip of blood trailing down his face.

And the worst of it all were the pieces of rebar shoved roughly through skin and muscle.

She glanced down, pressing her lips together when she saw a hasty splint around his foot. "I don't remember him mentioning a broken foot."

McG grimaced, a grave look on his face. "Happened during the rescue."

Jaz felt cold and hot at the same time, and suddenly, it clicked. The unexpected cry of pain over the comms.

"And some of the movement jostled the rebar. Opened up the wounds even further." McG tossed her some gauze. "Pick a piece of rebar and apply pressure."

Obediently, she ripped open the package of gauze, pulling out the white and pressing it against Adam's side around the rebar. Preach and Amir quickly came to help, tearing open gauze packets and moving with the stretcher as medics carried Adam toward an ambulance.

Jaz quickly readjusted her hands and looked up at Adam's face.

His eyes were open.

He was squinting painfully against the sun, his stare murky and unseeing. She knew he wasn't completely with it, but he was awake.

"You're going to be fine. You made it out. You're going to be fine," she urged, vaguely wondering who she was trying to convince: herself or him. Her teammates were relaying similar thoughts around her, their voices colliding in the open air as they frantically offered what comfort they could.

But it was short-lived. Adam fell under again: eyes closed, body slack. Somehow, that just made things worse.

Without asking, all four of them climbed into the back of the transport truck.

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Jaz watched the blood slowly seep into the gauze under her fingers. She couldn't believe this. One minute, he was mostly fine, if not a little lightheaded, and then the next he was screaming and fighting off unconsciousness. And he'd been alone. All alone.

Now here they were, the four of them trying to staunch the flow of blood while a military medic examined Adam's foot.

It was a miracle they all fit in the back of the ambulance. It was tight, but they'd made it work. She looked at Adam. Damn, he looked even worse. She hoped it was just the sucky lighting in the truck. In many ways, he was lucky to be alive. He could've easily been crushed under the building.

She felt nauseated just thinking about the possibility.

Jaz thought back to Top's bodycam footage. She'd peered over McG's shoulder, eager to see what had befallen their fearless leader. The sight hadn't sat well with her. She'd nearly lost her lunch in a wave of panicked worry.

Jaz glanced down at her hands, swallowing a lump in her throat. She could only imagine how much force was required to get rebar through flesh.

For a minute, she wondered how long his recovery would be. Or if he would even make it to recovery.

The ride to the base seemed like an eternity. But Adam never woke up. Another pang of concern pinged through her chest.

The truck slowed to a stop, and the flurry started up again. Adam was quickly pulled from the back and whisked away to surgery while the team stayed behind, worried and bewildered.

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Amir stared at the wall of the waiting room. When he was in the CIA, he often worked alone. But now he was part of a team. A sort of odd family, really. A family of professional risk-takers.

Medical scares were probably frequent with this kind of work. This kind of . . . family. But he was sure it would never get easier. Waiting room chairs would always be uncomfortable, and the unquenchable terror would always be there.

He thought back to Preach's coma. Jaz's stay in the medical center after her abduction. Both felt very different from this and from each other. With both, Top had been a strength for all of them, even if he couldn't be for himself. They'd all seen Adam's quiet moments of anger when he thought no one was looking. Amir could relate. Often, his own sorrow and fear came out as frustration. At himself, mostly.

Amir swiped a hand over his face, looking around at the rest of the team. McG was staring at the ceiling, Jaz was glaring at the floor, and Preach was sitting stoically in a corner seat. No tears. There were hardly ever tears.

After the explosion, there had been unspoken panic. Top's radio silence rang louder than anything: the shrieks of fear, the scream of sirens, the rumble of running feet . . . All the team could hear was the nothing on their comms.

And then Adam groaned. He spoke. He lived. For a moment, they'd thought everything would be okay. But he'd lied. To protect them, he'd lied. It hadn't lasted long, but he'd given them just a moment of comfort. Just one precious, relieved moment.

Adam would've given them more if he could.

Amir thought he'd be angry. Angry at Top for keeping his injuries to himself. Yet, he understood, and he was _grateful_. It had felt like a much-needed breath in a barrage of unrelenting waves. The team leader was just doing his job—one he took seriously: protect his team at all costs.

The smaller man let out a sigh. He was tired. So tired.

He was thankful this particular assignment had been close to base. They at least had something familiar to return to once the immediate danger had dulled to a general worry.

His eyes darted to his teammates once more. If it came to it, he'd volunteer for first watch over Top. He'd decided. He could do that for them.

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Joseph McGuire blinked slowly, drinking in the ceiling tiles. He thought about getting a cup of coffee, but his stomach twisted at the idea. He considered pacing to stretch his legs, yet that seemed like an even less appealing option. So here he'd sit, tracing the edges of the ceiling tiles.

"Anyone here for Adam Dalton?"

McG bolted upright, his head spinning uncomfortably. A doctor was already heading in their direction. They must've been painfully easy to spot.

"What's the news, doc?" McG asked, trying to stay lighthearted. He didn't exactly feel lighthearted.

The surgeon sat across from the team with a sigh, looking at each of them with a smile. "The surgery went well." Cut right to the chase. McG sure appreciated it. "We were able to remove the rebar successfully, and we flushed out each wound before stitching them up. Nothing vital was hit. But we are a little concerned about infection. So we'll keep an eye on him, and if an infection develops, we'll do our best to start treatment early."

McG could feel weight sliding off his shoulders. His job was to watch over the team's health. And every scare felt like a failure. But at least, this time, things looked like they'd turn out. "Thanks, doc. We appreciate it. Can we see him?"

The surgeon dropped his hands to his knees as he stood, creating a soft slapping noise. He straightened out, offering another small smile. "Absolutely. But it's late, so I'll only permit one at a time." He paused, glancing at each team member. "So . . . who's first?"

"McG," Jaz answered immediately, her usual tough determination on her face. Joseph looked at her, confused. She smirked. "Health is your department. Gotta make sure your people are in one piece."

He let out a small huff of laughter, hiding the swell of gratitude behind bright eyes. His gaze darted to Preach and Amir, looking for their approval. And from the looks on their faces, he knew they understood. He had to know that everything possible was being done. He had to know that Top had been taken care of.

"Go check on that stubborn bastard," Preach urged quietly, a small upturn to his lips.

Without a second thought, McG pushed himself to his feet, scrubbing his palms against his pants before following the doctor. He looked back at the others, earning a nod of encouragement from Amir.

The halls were quieter than he expected. There were the usual whispers of nurses, beeps of machines, and other basic sounds of a hospital, but compared to the bomb site, it was almost . . . peaceful.

Or eerie.

The doctor led him to a room, gesturing inside. Then he left with a departing smile and a nod, leaving McG standing at the door alone.

Breathing deeply, he stepped across the threshold, walking slowly. The lights were dimmed, the machines silenced, presumably to give Top some peace.

McG moved further, looking into the room. There was Adam. Still unconscious.

But he looked better. Cleaner. Taken care of. His broken foot had been set and plastered.

Joseph stepped forward, eyes already scanning their fallen leader. Carefully, he peeled back the sheets, taking a peek under fresh bandaging. The stitches looked good. Clean. Neat. Satisfied, he replaced the bandaging and pulled the sheets back up.

He pursed his lips at the number of bruises. No part of Adam had been spared, falling victim to pelting debris. Top was going to be stiff and sore for days, maybe even weeks.

But he was alive. He was well. He was taken care of.

Overwhelmed, Joseph fell into a spare seat, releasing a shaky sigh. Every teammate mattered. He worried about them all. But with Adam, it was different. He owed the man so much, he felt like he could never pay him back. And if something happened to Adam under Joseph's watch . . . the medic wasn't sure he could ever recover from a failure like that. He could never live it down.

At least, this time, he didn't have to face that failure. He'd done everything he could, and he'd successfully gotten Top to the hospital.

McG stared at the IV bag by Adam's bed.

What about next time?

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Moments like these were difficult. Preach had been here before. Many times before. Some of those with Top, being the reckless creature he was. And here they were again, waiting for intangible dangers to pass.

It was his turn now. McG had his moment, Jaz had hers . . . and after a quiet battle of polite consideration, Preach had convinced Amir to go ahead of him.

So it was Preach's turn.

He stood in the doorway, taking a heavy breath. He couldn't help but think about how they got here. Adam had opted to face the danger instead of his team. Again. It was part of what made Top . . . Top. And when the next opportunity arises, he'll do it again.

Until he can't anymore.

Stepping into the room, Preach quietly sat in the chair at Adam's bedside.

"I don't know how much more of this I can handle, man," he muttered, leaning forward. He knew Adam wouldn't answer, but even if he could, it wouldn't make a difference. Preach could try every persuasive trick in the book, and Adam still wouldn't give up his self-sacrificing ways. In Top's eyes, his team came first. He came second.

And that unsettled Preach more than he cared to admit. He thought back to the hijacking in Columbia.

_"You have kids."_

That was Adam's reasoning. Sure, it was pretty good reasoning, but Preach saw it for what it was. An excuse. Didn't matter which one of them it was, Adam would find a reason to go in their stead.

_"I need you to cover Amir."_

_"I have more experience."_

_"You could use some rest."_

Or if he was feeling particularly strict: _"I'm going and that's final."_

Preach offered a resigned sigh to the silent room.

He'd never stop worrying about Adam.

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Amir spotted Preach as the larger man made his way back down the hall. He looked tired; a rare image for the normally calm and collected man. He couldn't blame him. Most of Adam's risks ended in cracked ribs, shallow gashes, or something a little less . . . this.

Preach slowed as he approached, folding his arms. "All right, we should keep a constant watch on Top until he's well on the road to recovery."

Amir nodded. Top shouldn't have to wake up to an empty room.

"Who's on first watch?"

"Me." Amir's voice was firm. Final. McG raised his eyebrows at the shorter man's tone. "I can stay," Amir continued. "Go get some rest."

"No, I can stay," Jaz pressed, her husky voice determined.

"Not going to happen," Amir replied, setting his jaw. "It's not like Top's going to wake up during the first shift anyway. Go get some sleep."

He stood, looking at the rest of the team. "Decide who gets the next shift, and whoever that is, I'll see you in the morning."

With that, he walked off to Adam's room, leaving the team to stare after him.

McG smirked to himself and shook his head. "Well, I guess Amir's got the first watch."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Hello, hello! I'm sorry for the EXTREME delay. I meant to post this chapter and finish the story shortly after I posted the second chapter, but then there was a laughable series of busy events that made it tough! First, I was swamped with work for a couple days and was rushing to take care of things (since I was leaving for vacation that week), then I went on said vacation for eleven days with the fam. Had car trouble, so my husband and I couldn't even drive back home for another day. _

_Finally got home and took home our new puppy the very next day (and this pickup had been anxiously anticipated for eight weeks). Spent a week house-training the pup and sleeping odd hours to make up for those middle-of-the night potty breaks. AND THEN the internet went down. Some fellas doing work outside accidentally pulled the cord out of the box, and a tech couldn't come out for a few days. No internet. For two and a half days. At this point, I'm just chuckling. And only twelve hours before they fixed the internet, my mom came in town for a hastily planned, week-long visit (which was lovely, don't get me wrong)! And she just flew home last night. _

_Anyway, sorry for that long-winded list. It was just an interesting parade of events. Now the puppy is sleeping, and I've had enough rest and also have a little quiet time to write! And I am truly sorry for not posting sooner; I know it can be tough to wait for another chapter! So here is the third and final chapter of this tale. I hope you enjoy it and are satisfied by the ending. Happy reading. :)_

**Chapter Three**

Jaz laid on her bunk, staring at the ceiling.

It would be a while before Adam could go on missions. And that thought was both comforting and upsetting.

She preferred to have eyes on her guys at all times, especially after the bombing on the beach. Anything could happen anywhere, even when they were off duty. So it pained her to think about him being left alone while the four of them went out into the field. But on the other hand, Top wouldn't be throwing himself into dangerous situations at every turn.

So it was both comforting and upsetting.

It was nice of Amir to volunteer for first watch. She'd relished the clean spray of the shower when they first got back, happy to wash off the remnants of the awful bomb. Dust and small splatters of blood swirled down the drain, gone forever.

And now, feeling both clean and refreshed, she couldn't sleep. Her mind kept wandering back to Adam and the harsh cry that rang through the comms.

She had to see him. She had to be sure he was okay.

But she didn't want to rudely sweep aside Amir's kind gesture. Normally, she wouldn't care. Yet, this time, seeing that look of determination on Amir's face, she just couldn't take this away from him.

So she'd wait. She'd lie here staring at the ceiling.

Not sleeping.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaz stopped outside of Adam's room, a lukewarm cup of coffee in her hands. Back at their shared space, she'd waited patiently as long as she could before wandering out to the common area, eyes falling immediately on Preach and McG.

And they'd both volunteered her for the next shift. No argument.

So now she was here.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped inside the room. Amir looked up before glancing down at his watch. "Morning already?"

"Something like that. It's still early, but since I was up anyway, I thought I'd come to relieve you," she explained, deceptively casual.

Amir nodded, wearily standing from his seat. "He developed a fever during the night. They mentioned an infection and started him on antibiotics, but he's still pretty warm. So I'd keep an eye on his temperature."

Her anxiousness deepened at Amir's report. Infection? Fever? All that in a handful of hours?

"Has he woken up yet?" she asked, gaze sliding to Adam.

"Not yet. But they think he should wake up this morning," he answered smoothly. Stretching a little, he moved around the bed, dropping a hand to her shoulder. "Have a good shift."

Amir left, leaving her alone with Adam. She stood there for a moment, unmoving as she examined her team leader. His bruises seemed darker. More painful. Adam didn't look much like himself under all the purpling skin. She looked away.

The first time she'd seen him after surgery, he didn't look much better than he had in the ambulance. Sure, he was cleaner, but that only made his bruises stand out more. And now he looked even worse.

Letting out a huff of air, she moved to take a seat, dropping into the open chair. Now, all she could do was wait. She folded her arms and let out a breath through her nose.

The minutes ticked on, hours drifting by. She sat patiently, glancing occasionally at his face—only to check if he was waking. She couldn't stand the bruises. Could barely look at them. They just reminded her of how far he was willing to go to keep the rest of them alive and well. So instead, she stared at the wall.

And even as the sun rose, washing the room in golden light, he didn't stir.

She began to wonder if he ever would.

Then there was movement. An almost imperceptible tightening around his eyes. She would've missed it if she'd looked at him only a millisecond later.

Jaz stiffened, watching intently. Braving those bruises. There was a wince. A groan.

"Top?" She pulled her chair closer to the side of the bed. Out of a rush of anticipation, she grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in both of hers.

Foggy blue eyes opened, blinking against the sunlight. And Jaz just waited, unknowingly holding her breath.

Adam moved his eyes around the room, that spark of confident intelligence dulled behind swaths of feverishness. His gaze fell on her, the blue orbs swirling with confusion and pain. Yet, a slight smile crept up into his lips. "Hey, Jaz."

"How are you feeling?"

"Great," he croaked, trying to sound convincing. It fell flat. And the added wince didn't help.

"Nice to see you awake," she continued, hastily pulling her hands away from his. She readjusted the positioning of her chair, fiddling with her jacket. Even now, she was trying not to look at him. But she knew she couldn't keep it up for long. He'd notice.

She swallowed. And looked up. Then immediately looked away.

Hell, she felt so childish. She was a grown woman who couldn't stomach some bruises.

But they weren't just bruises, were they?

Steeling her resolve, she braved another look.

Right into Adam's blue eyes.

He stared straight at her, but all she could see was the purpling around one eye and the nasty gash near his hairline. More bruising ran along his jaw and a split lip stood out starkly against his pale skin.

Yes, he was awake. Doctors said he would be fine with some rest and antibiotics. But she couldn't help but wonder how close it had been. Not many survive a building collapsing on top of them.

"Jaz."

She blinked, refocusing on the present. He was staring at her, a familiar look in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

She bristled. Why was _he _asking that? Why was he _always _asking that? Even now, when he was down with a broken foot and fever, barely able to rasp out a handful of words.

"I'm fine," she answered heatedly. He could be so frustratingly selfless.

Adam nodded, closing his eyes wearily. Watching him, the fight drained out of her. He was just being . . . Top, despite how awful and tired he must feel. She quickly felt guilty for snapping.

"Sorry, I . . ." She paused, not entirely sure what to say. "It's been a long night."

He nodded again, opening his eyes to stare at the wall on the other side of the room.

Jaz took a deep breath. "And no, I'm not okay. I'm not okay with . . . with _this_." She gestured to him. To the bruises. To all of it. "You could've _died_."

"I know," he whispered, his voice beaten and worn. Their eyes met, and she saw it. He'd been prepared to die. He was prepared to die alone.

Sadly, that didn't surprise her.

But seeing both the bravery and the apology in his gaze, something clicked. She could see it now. Clear as day. Something she'd never truly considered before. Pulling all those dangerous stunts for his team wasn't just something Adam _wanted _to do. It was something he _had _to do. It was as much a part of him as those blue eyes. He couldn't back down because it would be like severing a limb.

And seeing that, she knew she couldn't change his mind. No one could. So maybe it wasn't about stopping him. Maybe it was just being ready for the fallout. Her heart ached at the very thought, but somehow, it felt like the right thing to do. To just be there.

To be there for the bruises, the broken bones, the fevers. Adam had to do what he had to do, and he wouldn't stop just because they asked him to.

So . . . all she could do was be a support.

It would still be hard; she wasn't naïve. But at least she could ease some of his burden—she remembered the guilt that always seem to linger when he saw their hurt and fear. And she realized, even though he felt like he had to protect them at all costs, it didn't come without a price. It didn't always bring him joy. Just more joy than one of his own team members getting hurt or worse.

Jaz pursed her lips as she looked over at Adam. His eyes were closed again, but he wasn't sleeping. A shiver ran through him, and he winced as the movement jostled his injuries. Jaz looked at the monitor to take note of his temperature. Still high, but not alarming.

She rested a hand on his shoulder. Gently. He opened his eyes to look at her.

"Just . . . I get why you wanted to keep it from us, but . . . you're not alone." She didn't do well with touchy-feely, but she had to tell him. He had to know. "You do what you have to. Just don't forget us when things go south." Having said her piece, she pulled her hand away, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

"Thanks, Jaz," he replied quietly, offering her a smile. Just in that upturn of his lips, she knew he understood how difficult it was for her. To express her concerns. To admit that she cared about anyone even half-decently. "But I do depend on you more than you realize."

Her eyes met his, and she could see that familiar glimmer in his eyes. Of kindness. Appreciation. And yet, behind it was that murky shadow of fear and guilt and hardship.

"If you guys were with me, then who would make sure I got out of the rubble in one piece?" he asked, his smile deepening. "Yeah, maybe I do the crazy things I do to keep you guys safe. But I also do them because I have a team I can trust to back me up."

He sounded tired. But that didn't stop him. Never did.

"And yeah, I didn't tell you guys right away. Only because I figured you all had enough on your plate, and I wasn't even sure how bad it was at first. But you're right; I should've told you right away. I'm sorry. I should've been honest."

Jaz inhaled deeply through her nose, holding the breath for a moment before releasing it. "Apology accepted. I guess."

Adam smiled.

"Now get some sleep," she ordered, leaning back with her arms folded. "You look half-dead already, and I'm not about to endure a tantrum from McG for your sorry ass."

His smile grew to a grin. "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, blinking slowly. "Wouldn't want to upset McG."

Jaz smirked as Adam slowly fell back asleep, his breaths measured and steady. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest, and she could breathe again.

Honestly, she hadn't thought about how much trust went into Adam's risky stunts. She'd been too focused on all the possible disasters. But somehow, it was comforting to know that he did what he did because he trusted them. Valued them. She knew he did already, but to see it from this point of view . . . it was certainly different.

Maybe because it always felt like he didn't trust them to stay alive or do the right thing in a difficult situation. But it wasn't that. From her abduction, she knew it was his own fear for their safety that motivated him to take risks on their behalf.

_"If anything goes wrong, you improvise."_

She remembered him saying that before the assassination in Tehran. If that wasn't trusting her to do the right thing under stress, she didn't know what was. He'd given her full control. To complete the objective.

And to stay alive.

Thinking back to that whole mission, she recognized what Adam meant. About trust. About having people to rely on. When she was most vulnerable, heading in as a lone assassin, she had courage because she knew her team stood behind her and would be there when trouble arose. She trusted them to help her and support her. And they did. Even if they felt like they'd failed.

It must've been the same for Adam. He could run into danger alone because he trusted they had his back. And he trusted they could carry on without him if it ever came to that.

That just made her respect him more.

She watched him sleep, her eyes lingering on the purple bruises. They held a different meaning now, one she appreciated more.

She had his back. No question.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

They were all anxious to get back to base. It had been a week since Adam was discharged from the hospital, free of fever and infection. He slept a lot during the first couple of days, but steadily became a regular in the common area on his crutches.

And then a mission came up. They were needed—even if Adam had to stay behind. No one wanted to leave, but with Adam well on the way to recovery, there was no reason to stay behind.

So they went. With Preach acting as commanding officer.

And it went smoothly. No one had to throw themselves into the line of fire. No one had to jump from a third story. It was an unusually routine mission.

But now that it was done, they were ready to get back, if only to make sure Adam hadn't done anything stupid.

As the jeep halted to a stop in front of their team home, the four of them jumped out, practically jogging to the front door. Patton trotted beside them, looking up at them with bright eyes and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Preach gave him an absentminded scratch behind the ears before following the rest of the team inside, leaving Adam's furry pal just outside the door.

"Back already, huh?" Adam greeted cheerfully. "How'd the mission go?" He was seated at the table, eating grapes one-handed with his broken foot crossed over the other leg. Thankfully, he'd left his sling on to keep him from using his injured arm and shoulder. They half-expected him to tear it off as soon as they were out of sight. But at least he was somewhat logical about self-care.

Without a word, Amir walked over to the fridge and pulled it open to inspect the contents.

"This mission turned out pretty neat and tidy," Preach reported, squeezing Adam's good shoulder as he took a seat. "Went smoothly, and nothing was out of place."

"Glad it went so well," Adam replied, popping another grape in his mouth. He paused his chewing when McG pulled up a chair, gingerly taking Adam's broken foot to set it on the other seat.

"I want the foot on the chair whenever you're sitting. You've got a pretty bad thigh injury too, remember? Bit early to flex those muscles," the medic scolded, scowling at the team leader. Adam waved him off, earning an eye roll from McG

"Please tell me you ate something other than grapes," Amir groused, still staring at the fridge. "All the leftovers are still here."

Adam winced. "Yeah . . . I had a hard time getting any of the lids off."

The shorter man turned around, staring straight at Adam. A smoldering anger burned behind his eyes, stoked by his own worry. He hadn't thought about how hard it would be to open a container with one good arm, and their set seemed to be particularly difficult to open.

"What did you eat?" Amir asked, his voice low.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Amir. I managed just fine; I didn't starve," Adam answered, waving his free hand dismissively.

Amir took a deep breath, eyes scanning the shelves. It didn't take long to see what was missing. Bread and fruit. That's all Adam ate. Bread and fruit. He turned back to the fridge, retrieving a container, loosening the lid, and popping it in the microwave. "Stop eating grapes. You need to eat something else."

"I said it was fine, Amir. Really."

"Don't care. You're eating something heartier than bread and fruit," Amir growled, eyes watching the seconds tick by on the microwave.

McG sighed heavily. "Really, Top? That's it? Can't leave you alone for a second."

Adam shrugged. "Like I said, the containers were kinda . . . hard to open."

The microwave beeped as Amir grabbed a spoon from their cup of utensils. In no time, there was a container of steaming soup in front of Adam, paired with a gleaming metal spoon.

"You aren't leaving this table until you eat all of it," Amir demanded quietly. Dangerously.

"Alright, alright. I'll eat it," Adam agreed, pursing his lips in annoyance. He looked up at his team. "I'm okay. Really. You guys were gone for three days, and I'm still alive, right?"

"Yeah, but you only ate bread and fruit," Jaz reprimanded.

"And you weren't resting properly," McG added.

"Okay, so maybe I wasn't a straight A student," he huffed, digging his spoon in his soup to slip a full spoonful into his mouth. "But I didn't take my sling off, and I slept more than a full night's rest every night. Promise."

"And that's great, Top," McG replied. "Really, I'm impressed that you kept your sling on. But you're going to eat every bit of that soup, and you're going to keep your leg on that chair. Understood?"

Adam smiled, looking down into his soup as he scooped up some more. "Yeah, I got it." He didn't much like the nagging, but he wouldn't trade this for anything. This camaraderie and true care between teammates. This was everything he wanted.

And he'd do everything to keep it.

_Fin._


End file.
